n
THE SUNDAY OREGOXIAN, PORTLAND, JANUARY 12, 1913.
liiiejTi J. i lynn.
GCF2
Gjrviee
Crime, He Thinks, Is Caused by Rum, Idleness, Poverty and En
vironment How He Takes the Trail of a Bad Man or Gang and
Follows It Year After Year Hunting Down Counterfeiters.
4 Z?
ANEW man, and a big man in his
dimensions, in his energy and his
stirring: achievements along: his
line, is hereafter to guard the Presi
dent and to "apprehend," making; use
of a professional and favorite verb of
his own, such criminals as may coun
terfeit the bonds and currency of the
United States.
In the meanwhile, up to March 4, he
will protect Woodrow Wilson against
the schemes and attacks or lunatics,
anarchists and other assassins. William
J. Flynn is his name. Going further,
he Is one of the greatest of living
detectives. Better still, borrowing a
phrase and testimonial from John F.
Wllkie, whom he succeeds as chief of
the Secret Service, "he is an absolutely
honest man."
A real detective does not look like a
detective. Nor does Flynn. He is six
feet In stature and must weigh '300
pounds. His hair is black, though
he Is forty-five years old, and his
eyes, large and uncommonly intelli
gent, are very brown. Unnecessary
words, in his opinion, are as wasteful
and unwise as unnecessary motions.
He baa been in a "battle of wits," as
he calls it, with counterfeiters for
fifteen years. Most of the time he was
stationed in New York, the busiest
center for the coining of spurious su
rer in the United States, also the great
est market for bogus bank notes and
the meeting place of the outlaws en
gaged or about to be engaged in that
perilous and most unprofitable busi
ness. Counterfeiting has never paid. All
counterfeiters, if they live into old age,
die beggars. At least half of their
days, moreover, are , spent in prison.
Btill, many men turn to counterfeit
ing In the teeth of all experience. So,
Flynn has had no leisure in which to
cultivate the pleasant art of conversa
tion. He is as blunt and matter-of-fact
as J. P. Morgan. One would guess,
looking at him speculatively, that he
owned elevators, farms, and factories
out West or was digging tunnels and
building sky-scrapers somewhere in
the East.
Hants on Like Bulldog.
Large, mountainous almost, up and
down as well as clrcumferentially,
Flynn Is lively of head and brisk of
foot. Pounding has been at the bot
tom of all his success persistent
pounding of the man or the gang he
has set out to break. He never for
gets, nor does he ever give up. After
seven years of steady work ho put
the 40 members of the Luppo-Mo-rella
band of blackhanders and coun
terfeiters in the penitentiary. He
"picked them up," as he told me, one
at a time, always getting nearer and
nearer to the leaders. Luppo and Mo
rella were finally "apprehended" ev
ery one in the secret service knew
they would be, with Flynn, tenacious
and tireless, on their track. Luppo
was sent to the Federal prison in At
lanta for twenty-five years. Morella's
sentence was even longer.
"I would describe a detective," Mr.
Flynn replied in answer to a question,
"by saying that he ought to have some
natural ability, though that is second
ary, and a whole lot of common sense."
Thus, also, spoke William J. Burns,
who once was Mr. Flynn's associate in
the Secret Service, and who earned
9200,000 last year chiefly by hunting
grafters. "There is nothing else in It,"
Burns said to me In Chicago. j
"Common sense," Mr. Flynn observed
In elaborating his answer, "means more
than one gives it by a loose definition.
"It not only governs a man's vision,
his mental process and his labor, but
also his personal demeanor. I don't
Intend, however, to wander away into
the field of morals. Common sense,
nevertheless, keeps men straight and
so has a bearing on the detective busi
ness. It prevents crooked thinking and
enables one, detective or anybody else,
to perceive the human nature In mo
tives and events.
"Again, a detective Bhould be pa
tient and industrious. False whiskers j
THE LADY'S FAN
THERE are few private residences In
Berlin. Even very wealthy people
live in apartment-houses. These
are guarded by a concierge, who locks
the front door punctually every night
at 10 o'clock. To get in or out after
that time it is necessary to possess an
iron house key of huge dimensions.
Each tenant has at least one of these
instruments, which are exceedingly un
comfortable to carry about. But this
story is about a tenor and not a key.
One of the women about whom I
have read for years is a Mrs. Lily
Brand, relict of a AVestphalian manu
facturer, who, one fine day, took the
praiseworthy resolution of departing
for a better world and leaving half
a million behind him In this. His death
was the only sensible act he ever did.
Mrs. Brand came to Berlin like an en
chanted princess, who had been until
then held captive up a factory chimney.
She brought with her the habit of
blowing gently over her arms, as if
still wishing to remove stray specks
of coal dust. In other respects she
was snow white, pure to the most se
cret recess of her heart a charming
little person with slim, white hands,
big blue eyes full of ignorant, inno
cent longing and tousled auburn hair.
Smiling wistfully, she sat waiting for
Love.
We all paid our court, but we were
none of u.s good enough for her. We
were too shallow, she said. It was only
our pretensions that were deep, fath
omless. "He must be my fate, as I shall be
his," she once said to me with a mel
ancholy upward glance of her eyes, "but
he must have the strength to renounce,
as I shall have." She sighed deeply.
I also sighed. And then) we laughed
at each ether.
It happened about the same time
that a famous singer appeared in Ber
lin to fulfill a short engagement at the
opera.
The world of women received him
with open arms; they applauded him
nd dined him and wined him a little
tremblingly, too, for the aureole of the
wildest kind of Don Juan romanticism
surrounded his person, and never yet.
so It was said, had a woman been able
to withstand his stormy onslaught.
Kveryona, knows the blissful terror
; and Tubber boots belong to melodrama
best seats in the house only twenty
cents. Likewise to literature. Steady
hammering -that's my doctrine and
advice. It won't do to drop the case
in the pressure of later matters. Re
serve a place for it in the corner of
the head, remember it, think of it, and
keep hammering away, here a little and
there a little, until the men one Is after
are either apprehended or dead."
"That's what you did with respect
to Luppo and Morella? I said.
"Yes, If you want to drag me Into
the discussion of a principle that 1
meant to be general and not personal,
Yet the case of the men you have men
tioned proves the truth of what I have
said. Luppo and Morella are Italians
We picked up the minor members oi
the bunch man by man. The two lead
ers, however, were hard to get, stay
ing in the background, making plans
and letting their confederates circulate
the counterfeit money. Some of the
bills were printed In Italy.
"The gang had meeting and work
ing places in Poughkeepsie, Brooklyn,
New York City, and . Highland, a vil
lage several .miles back in the coun
try from the banks of the Hudson The
counterfeits were made from photo
graphic plates, and were fair imita
tions of $2 and $5 bills. Italians in all
parts of the United States bought the
notes at an average price of 35 cents
on the $1. We learned some of the
facts immediately after Luppo and
MorelTa got into operation. A man
now and then would be arrested and
sent to the peniteniary. One day we
found 51500 of counterfeit American
and Canadfan money under a bed In an
Italian tenement.
How Conn terfclt era Are Caught.
"I shafl not explain our methods.
That would be foolish. It can be said,
however, that spurious notes get into
banks among the deposits of grocers
and small merchants. An expert re
ceiving teller knows them at a glance.
He immediately sends word to us. We
take the counterfeit bill to the mer
chant who deposited it with the bank
in the hope that he will remember the
physical characteristics of the man
from whom it was received. Ordinarily
he can give us no help. The same
counterfeit Blips into other banks. So
We keep on going to tradesmen, to
bacconists and saloonkeepers until we
And some one who can fully or partly
describe the person we are hunting.
After that,, things move more easily
for us. We eliminate suspected crim
inals whom the description does not lit.
By and by we catch the man we "are
after. It is a long, tedious task, but
It Is interesting to the detective who
likes his business.
"At the end of the seven years, Lup
po, Morella, and all their confederates
were in the penitentiary under sen
tences ranging from 15 to 30 years.
They took an honest man to Highland,
their manufacturing headquarters, and,
under threats of death, compelled him
to do their printing. We learned his
story and he assisted us considerably.
The photo-engraving plates on which
the counterfeits were printed disap
peared, however, before we raided the
plant at Highland. Nor have we ever
found them. A Morella counterfeit is
occasionally taken in at some bank,
which shows that a few of the notei
are still in circulation.
How the Black Hand Works.
"Your predecessor, Mr. Wllkie," I re
marked, "says you have done more to
break up the Black Hand organization
in New York than has any other detec
tive?"
"That was kind of Mr. Wilkie, but
the Black Hand is still murderous and
busy. The Luppo-Morella gang were
also blackmailers, robbers and assas
sins. They committed, I am sure, at
least 25 murders. The Black Hand is
causing the police of all large cities
a great deal of trouble. Luppo killed
a man in Italy and then fled the coun
try. He was tried, though absent, con
victed and sentenced to- prison for 17
years. That is done right along in
Italy. An accused person, even if he
Is not in custody, can be put on trial,
with which the hyper-sensitive fem
inine imagination hails the appearance
of such a raesslah. We all know how
infectious the fever is.
After all, Is not the tenor the Ideal
male? He wears the glorious costume
of the soldier, crams a hero's life of
gallant feats into a few hours every
evening and carols his magnetic high
C like a tenor. Who can wonder at
his success with the weaker sex? He
delights their eyes, excites their im
agination and soothes their senses. The
only thing he usually lacks Is the
feeling for ideal love. Woe to -the ro
mantic woman who thinks to find in
the man what the singer promises so
sweetly.
. Mrs. Brand caught the universal in
toxication even more violently than did
the others, for in her the soft longings
of the love-craving woman were united
with the fascinating terror of the
curious child.
Fairly beside herself with delight,
she returned from the opera, where she
had seen him for the first time in all
his glory, received with cheers, bom
barded with laurel wreaths.
Two days later she obtained an in
vitutlott from a friend, a leader of so
ciety, which bore in one corner, plus
the engraved formula, the penciled
words: "He will be there."
She smothered her slender figure In
a billowy ocean of lace, and with
trembling hands fastened fragrant roses
in her tresses. Fair and timid as a
water nymph who gazijs for the first
time on the splendors of the upper
world,, she entered the ballroom. He
had not yet arrived. It was even
feared that he might at the last mo
ment decline. Men like him could al
low themselves such little irregulari
ties. Breathlessly waiting, she sat
there, and with her all the others.
Toward 10:30 o'clock a Joyful flutter
ran through the room. From the hall
came the glad news. The door opened.
It was he. His tired glance swept
negligently over the room, seeking his
hostess, whom be scarcely knew. A
Byronic lock of hair fell f:loomily over
his furrowed brow. A faint, exotic
scent emanated from his person.
"It Is he he Is my fate!" Vuispered
Mrs. Brand, and lowered her sparking.
and if found guilty, can be condemned
to the penitentiary.
"Morella was a forger. He also es
caped from Itaiy. Both men found
their way to the United States. They
were criminals, you see. in the Old
Country, and continued as criminals
after reaching America. Practically ail
Black Hand ers are of the same type.
They leave Italy after their release
from prison or to escape prison and
coming to this country rob and black
mail those Italians who are making
an honest living. Often they turn
murderers simply to terrorize their in
tended victims or to close the mouths
of persons who know damaging things
about them. Their capture, because of
tne rear tney inspire, Is very aifr.cult.
"Several small tradesmen, neighbors,
perhaps, to show a common practice
among Black Handers. will receive let
ters on the same morning. They are
ordered' to pay a certain person or so
ciety $100 or have their stores or shops
blown up with dynamite. Usually they
live back or just over their places of
business. The bomb that destroys their
property, therefore, will also, in all
probability, injure or kill their families.
They are badly frightened. The log
ical thing under such circumstances
would be to call in the police. But
the panic of the shopkeepers is so
great that they begin to get their
money ready. They may be assassi
nated, they understand, if they at
tempt any measures against the black
mailers. A Black Hand Leader Appear.
"Then in a day or two a stranger
appears among them. He talks in their
own language, discusses Italian subjects,
and presently he mentions the extor
tions, robberies and murders of the
Black Hand organization. The mer
chants realize at once that he is a Black
Hand leader.. They know exactly what
Is expected. So they give him the let
ters and begin negotiations. They plead
poverty. One hundred dollars apiece is
more money than they possess. The
stranger takes the letters, saying that
as a favor to them he will bargain
with the man who has authority to re
duce the payment. On his return, they
are assured that 50 each will close the
transaction. He pockets the money and
walks out. The victims never say a
word. They are glad to escape with
their lives. If they should refuse to
be blackmailed, a bomb will soon show
them, If they live through the explo
sion, that they have mighty poor judg
ment in certain matters of diplomacy
and business."
"Tell me the story of John Davis,
the English counterfeiter," I said.
"From my point of view," Mr. Flynn
answered," John Davis is a remarkable
character. There are men who excel
him as photographers, or as etchers, or
as engravers, but he is the ablest all
around counterfeiter in the world.
Moreover, aside from his skill as a
mechanic he is a very shrewd and
resourceful individual. I am glad to
say that a sentence of 13 years necessi
tated an involuntary retirement from
his customary employment. He is now
safe within the walls of the Atlanta
penitentiary. Some day he will regain
his liberty, and I feel sure he will come
straight to Washington and call on me.
We met each other twice under peculiar
circumstances. His case, let me add, is
one of the biggest and most interest
ing that has occurred within my ex
perience. Copied Old Brockway's Plan.
"About 14 years ago a counterfeit
$10 note was put in circulation at a
race track near the city of New York.
The scheme was similar to the one
originated many years ago by William
Brockway, who studied chemistry at
Yale University, and later ranked first
among the counterfeiters of his time.
Brockway planned to make bets of $25
through confederates on a special day
at all the race tracks in the United
States, and get good money in change
for the bills of a large denomination,
which he had just counterfeited.
Brockway's plan failed; he was caught
before he could put it into execution.
The one tried later Ay Davis, the copy,
glance to her lap, for she could scarcely
bear the dazzling sight of him.
He disappeared into one of the de
serted adjacent apartments. It wasn't
worth his while to waste time on con
versation. Later it was whispered about the
rooms: "He will sing!"
"Oh, dear," whispered Mrs. Brand, "I
shall never be able to bear It! I know
I shall do something foolish!"
He appeared again on the surface.
His gloved hands swept nervously over
his temples, at which the gloomy lock
fell lower over his eyebrows. Evidently
he was imitating Rubinstein.
He began. He had chosen Tosti's
wailing aria, "Vorrei morir," the same
with which Mierczwlnski reaped such
rich triumphs later. A world of im
measurable woe streamed out of his
mouth. The tones lashed the women's
nerves like whips. There lay in that
the wild outcry of the foiled seeker
of happiness, the last breath of one
blissfully dying. The mad grief
Laocoon was written on the singer's
brow. His dimmed eye roamed about
the room as if seeking to cling to some
thing before it broke. And behold! It
rested on Mrs. Brand's lovely little per
son! An electric shiver ran down her back.
"Vorrei inorlr," she repeated dreamily,
Her eye had looked upon her savior
now she could die.
At suppertime the hostess came to
her, and pressing her hand with the
touched emotion of a. benefactress,
whispered: "Thank me, Lily; you are
to sit on his left."
I took her in to supper. It was no
pleasure, I can tell you, for that night
I was air to her. Her eyes, devoured
his every gesture. She breathed In the
gusts of air his waving sleeves created.
He drew off his gloves and threw
them into an empty wineglass. A veri
table armor of diamonds Dlazed on his
long, yellow hands. Between his fin
gers clung little grains of powder,
which he rubbed lovingly into the skin.
He was monosyllabic great men al
ways are.
Once In a while he tossed his hostess
a compliment, as one throws a bone to
a little dog. She gnawed at it bliss
fully.
Mrs. Brand he deigned to overlook.
you understand, was moderately suc
cessful. "It developed that John Davis, whom
I then knew as John Leiberman, was
the leader of the. band. He. got away
but we apprehended all of his associ
ates, and sent them to the penitentiary.
At this point John Davis himself drops
out of my story for a time. He will
be there, but so shadowy in outline as
not to be recognised by. an outsider. He
vanished, as I said, but he was not for
gotten. Months afterward a man who
gave his name as Jacob Stern asked
the paying teller of a New York bank
to give him American currency for 160
of English bank notes. The teller was
suspicious. He told Stem that the clerk
in charge of the foreign exchange was
at luncheon, and to come back in half
an hour. Then he called me on the tele
phone. T was at the bank when Stern re
turned. The notes, I had seen, - were
counterfeit. I apprehended Jacob
Stern and took him before a United
States commissioner. He said he had
found the fnoney in the street. We
could not disprove his statement and
he was released. He went to St. Louis,
but we kept our eyes on him just -the
same. When Stern and I left the bank
two of his confederates, one of whom
was a young man named Barmarsh,
watched us from the opposite sidewalk.
They had over $100,000 of counterfeit
Bank of England notes on their per
sons. I knew nothing about them at
the time the fact came out afterwards.
They guessed that Stern was in trou
ble and caught the next ship back to
England. Thus ends the second sec
tion of the story about John Davis.
Wherein John Davis Blundered.
"In the meantime the Davenport
counterfeit, as it was called, was being
passed on Innocent bystanders in Lon
don. It was not a very good imita
tion. The Bank of England relies on
the complicated watermark on its pa
per for protection. Its notes other
wise are easily copied, being plain
specimens of simple printing and litho
graphing. The solicitors of the bank
offered a large price for the Daven
port plate. Advertisements were pub
lished in the newspapers of England.
The money-would be paid and no ques
tions asked, the lawyers promised.
John Davis walked into their office
one morning and claimed the reward.
When he acknowledged that he made
the plate, the solicitors almost dropped
dead from astonishment.
"Well, to .shorten my story of John
Davis, let me say that he had blun
dered. As a matter of fact the Bank
of England had not yet discovered that
he had counterfeited one of its notes
and that his watermark was even bet
ter than the one he had imitated. Da
vis believed that the bank was trying
to get his plate. Also, he was sore.
Barmash, one of his partners, and the
father of the young man I spoke of a
while ago, had run away to South
Africa with $300,000 of the counterfeit
notes. Davis thought he would claim
the reward and start the detectives on
the trail of Barmash. Word, as he had
hoped, was telegraphed to South Afri
ca by Scotland Yard. Barmash, on
deck, as his vessel was n earing port,
saw a police . boat coming out. He
was a-sly old party and heaved his
counterfeit overboard.
Da via Comes to the United States.
"I went to London as a witness
against Davis. The solicitors, you see,
after some conversation and explana
tion, called an officer and had John
Davis pinched. The upshot of the whole
matter was that detectives from Scot
land Yard took Davis to Holland,
gave him $1500, and warned him never
again to set foot in Great Britain.
He was a dangerous man and they
wanted to pass him along to some
other country. Presently he came un
noticed into the United States. Soon
after I learned that someone was try
ing to exploit a counterfeit $10 note.
The plate had been made, a few sam
ples had been run oil, and a group
of little merchants on the East Side
of New York were arranging to sell
He occupied himself all the more
eagerly with his plate. The lobster
pasties met with his full approval; he
helped himself twice to roast lamb; at
sight of the trout his first gleam of
joy came over his gloomy countenance,
and the poulardes won him completely
back to life. Between whiles he poured
down the old Chambertin in streams.
At length a milder look fell on Mrs.
Brand also. "Did my song please you?'
he asked, with the air of a man who
contemplates solving the riddle of the
universe.
"Oh. how can I think you?" she
stammered.
"Do not thank me," he interrupted
her, laying his hand confidently on
her arm I had known her already a
year and a half and had never dared to
permit myself such a liberty. "It was
you who inspired me, and if some faint
echo of my innermost feelings trembled
in my song I have only you to thank
for it." He said it quietly and fluently.
as one says something one has learned
by heart
After that I left Mrs. Brand to her
fate. She had succeeded in fascinating
the singer, for. when supper was over
he drew her into a dark corner, where
he chatted with her for fully half an
hour.
Soon after, and long before the end
of the ball, he took his leave.
"Probably he has domestic affairs to
look after in a few ladles' boudoirs,"
a synical guest insinuated to me as he
watched him disappear into the ante
room. THE next morning Mrs. Brand sent
for me, and beaming with happi
ness told me what had occurred In the
blessed corner.
She had discovered an extraordinary
harmony of soul between herself and
the singer. Regarding the conception
of love as fate he had been entirely of
her opinion, and his version of the
theory of renunciation was stricter
even than net own.
I had my own thoughts, but took
good care to keep them to myself. I
wish now I had not been so tactful.
The end of her tale was that in his
unbounded enthusiasm he had put her
fan, with which he had been toying,
into his pocket and refused to surren
der it again.
"What shall I do about it?" she asked,
in seeming hopelessness, while her joy
at the theft shone traitorously out of
her eyes.
"It would be best," I suggested, half
jokingly, "for you to write to him and
r 'pJF
I
V vv
: '
T 1 0
v "
counterfeit money to friends and cus
tomers at about one-third of its face
value.
"We located the printing plant at Re
vere, in Massachusetts. The building
stood on a hill, and, therefore, we had
to approach it carefully. One of our
men, short of stature, dressed in the
uniform of a telegraph messenger,
rapped on the door. Just then a cov
ered wagon drove up to the house.
On the seat, wearing a grocery's apron,
sat another of our detectives,. The rest
of us were lying down on the bot
tom of the wagon among some empty
baskets. When the door was opened
the supposed messenger boy showed an
alleged telegram. The next moment all
of us were in the house. John Davis
and I were surprised to find ourselves
face to face. We got everything the
men and the plate. The whole gang,
including the small merchants, were
sentenced to the penitentiary.
"Our work most of the time, how
ever, is less spectacular. It is drudgery,
as is all labor that is useful and pro
duces results. The little counterfeiter
who spends a dollar for plaster, base
metal, and plating material, causes us
a great deal of bother. He makes $20
worth of spurious quarters and de
stroys his molds. Then he passes his
BY
ask him to give you back the corpus
deliclt personally!"
She blushed all down her neck. The
thought was evidently not new to her.
Immediately afterward I took my
leave.
When I asked her about the fan a
week or so later she seemed greatly
confused and avoided a direct answer.
Two months went by before I ascer
tained the solution to the enigmatical
Incident that had cost the poor woman
so many hours of peaceful sleep.
The thought that she must recover
the fan at any cost had from that mo
ment become fixed in her mind. She
even, led her wounded dignity into the
field in order to ccrmmand herself into
an effort for arranging a meeting. At
last she took the heroic resolve and
wrote to his hotel as follows:
Dear Sir: I beg you to give me back
my property. For this purpose I shall
expect you on Saturday at 12 o'clock in
room 14 of the National Gallery.
LILY- BRAND.
YOU can see how naive she still was.
To order a man like him into a mu
seum, where schoolgirls and students
have their rendezvous!
Half dazed with fright she sat, at the
time appointed, on the lounge in the
middle of the hall and stared anxiously
toward the door.
He allowed her to wait fully a quar
ter of an hour; but that was as It
should be. At last he appeared, envel
oped in a costly fur coat and with a
blue si'k scarf before his mouth. He
looked cross and seemed to be in
hurry.
His glance swept over the room and
remained fixed upon her dubiously. He
was evidently short-sighted, for he
stared at two other women afterward.
and had she not come 'j his aid with a
faint smile he might perhaps have
passed her by.
At thft call of her smile, hawpvpr bp
at once advanced, "Smiling kindly, and
took her hand.
"My dearest love!" he said.
Terror and shame drove the color
from her face. How had he the right
to address her thus?
He looked at her again with the same
strange, retrospective, doubtful expres
sion, such as one wears when one is
trying to remember something.
'It was a litle dark," he said at last
softly, almost tenderly, as If to apolo
gize for the look.
She glanced up at Aim with aston
ishment.
Yes. it was a little dark in the cor
ner," she replied bashTiilly.
t ' , Y . v m '
coins in the dusk of the afternoon
among shopkeepers, many of whom are
foreigners. '
All Connterfeltcrs Are Foolish.
"If he remains, in a neighborhood
for any length of time we soon get
him. But he has a habit of moving
about, and that delays and prolongs
our work. He comes to grief, how
ever, which leads me to remark that
counterfeiting is absolutely the silliest
of all gainful crimes. A burglar is a
fool, but he commits a robbery and can
then disappear and live for a while
on what he has stolen. The counter
feiter, on the contrary, gets his rev
enue in dribs. Every coin or note he
leaves behind is a sign by which he can
be followed and apprehended. It is a
foolish trade."
"Has anyone ever stuck a gun in
your face?" I inquired.
"Oh, yes; but I don't care to dwell
on such experiences. If ordinary pre
cautions are taken there is little risk
of getting hurt. We usually appre
hend men when they are fn the open.
The advantage then is with us. Knock
ing in a door is another matter. One
may find somebody with a shotgun
against his shoulder.'
"What are the causes of crime?"
JAMES MURNANE
He smiled. She did not understand
the smile, but there was something in
it that made her blush.
"Oh, I was gloriously happy," 'he add
ed, and squeezed her mand meaningly.
She had risen, but he seated himself
directly In front of her on the leather
sofa and stretched out his legs.
THE movement 'reminded her of her
deceased husband. Something of
the nonchalance of the husband lay in
it. She felt very uncomfortable and
blushed anew.
Again she noticed his puzzled glance
upon her. This time he even shook his
head.
"It's deuced hot here," he remarked,
opening his fur coat and pulling off his
gloves. One of his diamond rings
slipped from his finger and fell to the
floor.
He bent down phlegmatlcally.
"I must not lose that," he said; "It is
a keepsake from Princess " He
paused, smiling conceitedly.
She started. Impossible! She could
not have heard aright.
He twisted the ring slowly down
over his finger joints and eyed its com
panions lovingly.
"Look at this one here," he began
She interrupted him hastily.
"Do you know our gallery already?"
she asked.
"No," he replied, and raised his hand
to his mouth to stifle a yawn.
"I am intensely sorry, my dear lady,"
he continued carelessly, but what he
was intensely sorry about she was never
to know, for suddenly he stopped and
clapped his hand to his throat, whence
issued two gruesome, gurgling sounds.
"Oh, I've caught cold again!" he cried
in alarm, "and tonight I must sing!
This change of temperature I must
hurry off or I shall get as hoarse as a
crow.
H5 rose and piunged his right hand
into the wide pocket of his over
coat, from which he drew a square.
white parcel tied with pink silk rib
bon. He hesitated a moment again
the doubting look then, as If taking a
desperate resolution, he whispered,
with a meaning smile:
"And here Is what you wanted."
She took the package mechanically.
She scarcely dared to move, so ill at
ease did sb feel.
He seized her hand to say good-bye.
"How dearly I should like to kiss you
on th i forehead, my darling," be whis
pered.
For heaven s sake!" she cried out.
t
G
"Environment is the principal cause;
then rum, idleness and poverty."
How did you develop into a de
tective?" .
"The Secret Service of the National
Government would suit me better, I
thought, than plumbing, though I had
a shop of my own, and ajso had served
an apprenticeship at stone carving.
Federal prisoners, I knew, were kept in
the Ludlow street jail until liberated
or convicted, I obtained a place as
deputy warden purposely to make a
study of counterfeiters. They told me
their stories and explained their meth
ods. When I thought I was fairly com
petent to match my wit against theirs
I went to my Congressman, and he
helped me with the appointment. After .
a year and a half in New York, I was
sent to Pittsburg and placed in charge
of the work in Western Pennsylvania.
That territory was promptly cleaned
up, and then Mr., Wllkie ordered me
back to New York, making me head
of the service in that city.
'I might have become a promiscuous
plumber had I stuck to my shop and
original business, but I am glad I fol
lowed my bent and am now a detec
tive." (Copyright, 1913, by James B. Morrow.)
"But there are people here," he
continued, with a quiet smile. "Au re
voir tonight at the opera."
With that he hurried out.
She started after him as if turned
to stone. "Why did, he treat me so?"
she stammered. How glad would she
have been to feel some joy; but she
felt more like crying.
Absolutely dazed she huiried home.
Once there she "opened the box.
An intoxicating scent of flowers
rose from it. On the top a sheet of
paper met her eye, on which were
scrawled the words:
"Eternal memory of love's sweet ,
hour." ' r
And underneath, bedded on dark red
roses, lay, instead of the fan some
one else's house key.
This Rich Hermit Was Poor.
Marino Merllno, a hermit 73 years
old, died in Philadelphia the other day.
Dying unattended by a physician or
nurse, the police were called in to care
for his body and arrange for the fu
neral. The officers looked through a
dilapidated valise, and found It
crammed full of bills of small denomi
nations. A trunk they discovered to be
full of Bilver coins from nickels to dol
lars. Bank-notes of large denomina
tions were secreted beneath the car
pet. They were spread neatly over the
floor so that no lump betrayed their
presence. The Bilver pieces and paper
bills amounted in all to 330,000. Be
sides, bank-books were unearthed that
represented a balance in his favor in
savings banks of Philadelphia of 3100,-
000. He liked the clink of the silver
and the rustle of the bills better than
human voices, and preferred the com
pany of bis material wealth to that of
human souls. How many comforts of
life hft denied himself which he might
have had for the interest on his money!
How many widows he could have fed
and orphans he could have clothed!
How many pains he could have eased,
what pitiful conditions he could have
Improved with the proceeds of his
money .without reducing the principal
one cent! How close he could have got
ten to Gods heart by a rignt use or
his money for the church in the name
of his Master! But no; he had no room
for anything else but the love of money.
which made his a poor, pitiable, lone
some, selfish, wasted life, a failure
and a mockery. There is a deep mys- .
tery about this hermit Msrlino. No one
knows how he got his money, nor
where it is to go now he is dead.
Christian Herald,
OrTTTl 107.oll